


Clint Barton and the Cockblocking Conspiracy

by ereshai



Series: Various Prompt Fills [44]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Cockblocking, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Sexual Frustration, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-21 20:18:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11951871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ereshai/pseuds/ereshai
Summary: Clint just wants to spend some 'quality time' with Phil. Is that too much to ask? It just might be.





	Clint Barton and the Cockblocking Conspiracy

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [ImagineClintCoulson](https://imagineclintcoulson.tumblr.com) tumblr prompt: Imagine Clint & Phil getting cockblocked by their friends ALL the time.

Looking back, Clint decides it all began with Steve…

~

“Honey, I’m home,” Clint called cheerfully as he slammed the door shut behind him. Tried to slam it – all of the doors in the Tower were automatic to some degree and the machinery involved in that didn’t allow for actual slamming. Unless JARVIS was the one doing it, in which case they were probably fighting off an invading army. Still, the lack of slamability didn’t stop Clint from trying.

“In the kitchen,” came Phil’s reply. The smell of popcorn filled the air.

Clint smiled. It was movie night. After weeks of hardly seeing each other – rooting out the decades-long Hydra infiltration from SHIELD obviously took priority – and months since their last actual date night, Clint was looking forward to spending some one-on-one time with Phil. On the couch. Making out while they ignored whatever movie they chose. Clint needed to get his hands and mouth on Phil’s body and he needed Phil’s on his – hurried kisses whenever they ran into each other in passing weren’t cutting it any more.

Clint kicked his shoes off and went into the kitchen to say hello properly. Phil was just taking the popcorn out of the microwave and emptying the bag into a bowl. There was already a bowl of pretzels on the counter and a couple of six packs of crappy beer next to it.

“You sure know how to wine and dine a fella,” Clint said. He put a hand on Phil’s waist and pressed a kiss to his neck.

“Only the best for my man,” Phil said drily. He tossed the empty popcorn bag on the counter and turned into Clint’s embrace. “Hello.”

“Hello,” Clint said. They wrapped their arms around each other and Clint tilted his head toward Phil, unable to deny himself any longer.

The door chime sounded.

“Make them go away, JARVIS,” Clint said, his lips centimeters away from Phil’s.

“What should I tell Captain Rogers, Agent Barton?” Maybe it was just Clint, but JARVIS sounded a little snarky.

“Never mind, JARVIS,” Phil said. “We’ll see what he wants. I’m sure it won’t take too long,” he said to Clint, then patted him on the back when Clint slumped against him.

Phil’s prediction was wrong. So, so wrong. Steve had his stoic face on, the one that cropped up whenever he was reminded that everyone he’d ever known was dead.

“It’s the anniversary of Bucky Barnes’ death,” Phil whispered when they went back into the kitchen to retrieve their snacks. “He shouldn’t be alone.”

If it was possible for Clint to slump any lower without ending up the floor, he would have done it. He started to say something, but Phil spoke up first.

“Everyone else is out for the evening.”

Clint sighed and nodded. “All right, Steve,” he said as he carried the beer out to the living room. “I heard you’ve never seen _Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure_. Get ready for awesome.”

“Really?” Phil murmured.

“If I have to suffer, so do you,” Clint whispered right back. Phil was not a fan of Bill and Ted.

Clint spent the evening pressed against the arm of the couch, trying very hard not to give in and touch Phil. One innocent hand on his thigh would very definitely lead to an attempted hand job and that would probably make Steve uncomfortable.

They all ended up falling asleep in the middle of _Bogus Journey_ and when they woke up, date night was over and it was time to start the work day. 

~

So yeah, he’s going to blame Steve. Maybe he’s being irrational, but Clint is okay with that.

It only got worse from there.

~

The whole team was in Osaka for some PR thing – well, Tony was there for the PR thing _and_ a business thing – and by some luck Phil was also there, though not for PR. Something about saving the world, which Clint decided deserved a reward.

They were enjoying sushi at Hanagatami in the Ritz-Carlton. It was their last night in Osaka and they were going to make the most of it. Clint was feeling warm from the sake and Phil sitting next to him, their ankles hooked together. He was just about to suggest they retire to their room (it was pretty fancy, and it had a nice bed, which was all Clint cared about) when Tony came strolling out of one of the private dining rooms. He was surrounded by a bunch of men in business suits; several of them looked pissed off. They were trying to catch Tony’s attention, but Tony was ignoring them as only he could. He brightened when he spotted Clint and Phil and Clint suppressed a groan. This evening was fucked and not in the sense Clint had been hoping for.

“Two of my favorite people!” Tony clapped both of them on the shoulder and leaned in to whisper, “These guys are trying to kill me.”

Phil tensed and Tony added, “Through sheer boredom. You guys gotta help me out here.”

Then they were swept up in Tony’s entourage, despite their very firm no’s. Only it turned out some of the businessmen _were_ actually trying to kill Tony. They ended the night in a hospital getting their various bumps and bruises and totally non-life threatening jeez-Phil-it’s-just-a-scratch cuts looked at while the Osaka police eyed them with suspicion and questioned them thoroughly. They were released just in time to catch their flight home.

~

If he didn’t know any better, Clint would suspect a conspiracy. A cock-blocking conspiracy. Maybe their friends and coworkers like it when Clint is irritable and Phil is grumpy. They certainly like to try to cheer them up.

~

They both had the night off. Through painstaking attention to the details of their schedules (Phil) and excruciating exchanges of favors (Clint), they had the night off _at the same time_. Everyone else was safely occupied with other things – Tony and Bruce were in their respective labs, Steve was taking an art class, Thor was in an entirely different realm, and Natasha was off doing… something – and Clint was finally going to get some. They had all night, so it wouldn’t matter if he came the moment Phil’s hand touched his dick. Or if Phil did that thing with his tongue on Clint’s nipples. Hell, maybe even if Phil took his tie off the right way. It had been way too long.

Clint was waiting by the door for Phil to come home. They weren’t going to waste time on silly things like small talk or eating. Not until after the second round at least. Phil had probably scheduled a snack break right around that time.

He was just debating taking off more of his clothes – save time by being completely naked when Phil got there or let Phil strip him, which they both enjoyed? – when Phil walked in. Two seconds later they were in each other’s arms, exchanging fierce kisses. Then Phil spun them around and pressed Clint against the wall, trapping his hands above his head.

“Hey,” he said with a gentle smile. He held Clint’s wrists with one hand while he started undoing Clint’s pants with the other.

“Hey.” Clint closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the wall. Finally…

“Friends!” Thor boomed from the door. The open door. “I bear the most wondrous news. The celebration will be glorious. Stark is making the arrangements. Come!”

“I should have made sure the door was closed all the way,” Phil said.

“Just ignore him,” Clint murmured. He bucked his hips, nudging Phil’s hand to get him moving again.

“Son of Coul! Clinton! Come and be merry with me! I wish all of my friends to share in this.”

“It sounds important,” Phil said regretfully.

“ _This_ is important.”

Phil stepped back, releasing Clint’s wrists. “It is. But we could go to Thor’s party for a little bit and then-“

“Bone each other senseless?” Clint was sulking; he couldn’t deny it.

“Precisely. Please?” And then Phil turned on the puppy eyes and of course Clint was going to cave.

“Fine.”

The party was indeed glorious. Someone spiked everything with a little Asgardian mead and they all woke up the next morning cursing themselves, each other, the fact that the sun had risen, and the further fact that Stark Tower had floor-to-ceiling windows with no curtains. Tinting only did so much. Clint never did learn what they were celebrating.

~

It’s like they can’t even be in the same room anymore. The minute Clint even looks at Phil, someone comes along with some sort of emergency. The next time it happens, he’s going to use that person for target practice and leave the outline of arrows embedded in the wall as a warning to all those foolhardy enough to get between Clint and his man.

Clint may be getting a little melodramatic. He blames all the cheesy action flicks he’s been watching instead of actually getting any action.

~

Clint looked at Phil cautiously. Did he dare? He reached out and took Phil’s hand. They were at home, but Phil was technically working, so maybe…

“Love muffin,” he began.

Phil snorted. He continued to review some stupid files on his tablet.

“Shut up, I’m being romantic. Pumpkin pants-“

“Pumpkin p- Really?” Phil finally looked up.

“Sweetie pie?” Clint scooted closer, crowding Phil against the couch cushions.

“What’s with all the food-themed endearments? Are you hungry?”

“Yeah, hungry for your love.”

Phil burst out laughing. “I can’t believe you said that with a straight face.”

Clint loved making Phil laugh. He leaned forward and kissed the corner of his smile.

Phil turned his head and returned the kiss, then pulled back. “We shouldn’t…” He kissed Clint again. “I’m supposed to be working…” Another kiss. “I’ve missed you,” he finally said with a sigh.

Clint flung himself at Phil, pushing him down on the couch and landing on top of him. The tablet clattered down on the coffee table. Phil pulled Clint’s shirt out of his waistband and ran his hands slowly up and down his back. Clint undid Phil’s buttons, rewarding them both with a kiss every time one came free.

An alarm sounded. Clint fell to the floor.

“What the fuck? No!”

“Emergency in Lab 3B,” JARVIS said. “There was a small explosion. Dr. Banner is not responding.”

Then they were both running out the door, Phil buttoning his shirt as they went.

The lab was filled with smoke, though most of it was being carried away by the special venting system Tony had installed especially for that purpose. There was a team of first responders hanging around the door to the lab because, yep, there was the Hulk. He was sitting on the floor, hunched over to keep from banging his head on the ceiling. And he was turquoise.

“Sorry guys,” he called to them, his voice a strange mixture of Hulk’s register and Bruce’s intonation. “I’m still myself, if that helps. Bruce, I mean. Sort of.” He waved his hand at his Hulkish body.

“He seems okay,” Clint whispered to Phil. “We could head back…?”

Phil gave him a Look.

“Or not.”

Wrangling Bulk (Bruce+Hulk, what, it’s logical Phil, I saw that smile) was both easier and harder. They couldn’t figure out how to transform Bruce back to his original body and he couldn’t leave the lab in his present one. Removing some of the glass wall panels so he could get out took longer than expected and of course Phil had to supervise everything.

Clint eventually wandered back to their apartment and when he woke up in the morning, Bruce was back to normal and Phil was back at work.

~

Yep, definitely a conspiracy.

~

If Clint thought all of the interruptions were bad, they were nothing compared to Phil’s latest mission for Fury. Phil was gone, somewhere on the other side of the world. Clint hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye. Before, they would at least see each other, get to talk to each other, even if they didn’t get to be alone together for long. Now, Clint was getting no Phil at all, and he would gladly accept _months_ of blue balls if it meant Phil was home. Well, maybe not gladly, but he’d put up with it. He couldn’t even complain (out loud) because that was their job and whatever Phil was doing was a little more important than getting laid.

Despite his sort-of vow of celibacy, he did hope that Phil’s return would mean reunion sex. But it was not to be. They had just enough time for a meal and some cuddling that turned into a good night’s sleep for Phil before he was caught up in a series of briefings and interagency meetings, more travel (though not as far or as long), and tons of paperwork. It looked like the universe was cashing in on Clint’s promise.

~

At this point, there’s only one person who can help him.

~

“Do something,” Clint begged Natasha.

“Why are you involving me in your sex life?” Natasha took a sip of her coffee, one eyebrow raised at him.

“What sex life?” Clint threw himself back against the couch cushions and heaved a heavy sigh.

“Your hands seem fine to me.” Her eyes were twinkling.

Clint squinted at her. “You honestly think I’m not rubbing one out whenever I want to?”

“Oh, is the magic gone? I’ve heard switching hands works wonders.” She didn’t smile, but her lips did twitch a bit.

“You’re missing the point. I’ve been masturbating so much, Phil thinks I’m gonna leave him for Rosie Palmer and her sisters.” Clint raised a hand and wiggled his fingers at her.

“He doesn’t think that.”

“Just… help me out, please?”

Natasha placed her coffee cup on the table with great deliberation, then turned to Clint, her face serious. “Who do you want killed?”

“Knock it off,” Clint grumbled. “Phil has the night off tonight. I need you to keep everyone away from us. No last minute celebrations, no lab explosions, no ‘I just need to talk to Phil for one minute’, no nothing. As far as everyone else is concerned, we don’t exist.”

“Is that all? No problem.” She picked up her coffee again. “Don’t hurt yourself with all the sex you’ll be having tonight.”

“You’re so funny. Really. I’m laughing.”

After Natasha left, Clint started preparing for the night ahead. New sheets went on the bed, his dirty laundry went in the laundry chute, lube was placed in convenient locations around the apartment. He showered and put on his nicest underwear, then put on the fancy silk robe that Tony had given him as a moving-in present. Phil had one too, but he wouldn’t be wearing his tonight if Clint had anything to say about it. He made up some sandwiches; the faster they ate, the faster they could get down to business – plus Clint didn’t want to tempt fate by delaying things with an actual meal. He was just queuing up their sex playlist when Phil walked in.

Phil’s eyes lit up when he saw how Clint was dressed. “You look…” He shook his head. “Wow.” He tugged on the door handle, then undid his tie and tossed it off to one side. He did the same with his jacket. He stalked toward Clint, unbuttoning his shirt. “I’ve been looking forward to this.” He stripped off his shirt, struggled briefly when his cuffs got caught on his hands, and let it fall to the floor.

“Me too.” Clint reached out and pulled him close. “I missed you so much,” he whispered before kissing him.

It was meant to be a soft ‘welcome home’ kiss, but it quickly turned heated. When it ended, Clint’s robe was on the floor and Phil’s pants were hanging open.

“I missed you too,” Phil said. He started walking them back toward the couch, peppering Clint’s shoulder with kisses.

“I made sandwiches,” Clint said just before Phil pushed him down on the couch.

“Later,” Phil replied and then he knelt on the floor beside him. He tugged Clint’s underwear down – Clint lifting his hips to make it easier – and took Clint’s hardening cock in his hand. “Much later.”

Then his mouth was on Clint’s cock, warm and wet. Clint groaned, loud. “Oh fuck, that feels so good.”

Phil hummed. Clint shivered at the slight vibration. “M’not gonna last, baby,” he muttered and Phil hummed again. He rested his hand on Phil’s head and lost himself in the sensation.

“Clint.”

“Phil,” he answered. He bucked up against Phil’s mouth.

“Clint.”

“Hmm?” Phil’s head was bobbing under his hand. So good…

Wait.

“Clint, I’m so sorry.” Natasha. What?

“Avengers, assemble!”

~

Fuck his life.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't worry, after the battle, Clint and Phil fled to the nearest hotel (conveniently forgetting to tell anyone) and put a Do Not Disturb sign on the door.  
> For a week.


End file.
